It was the suddenness of it all. Do I move on or do I fall, Back to a place of familiarity? My feet flee but my soul stands in solidarity, With what once was. What felt right. What’s been keeping me up all these nights. A.
Insomnia Revisits.
Living With An Emotional Deficiency – III
III. If you promise to hear me out, I’ll explain, Why emotional responses are unhurried. Why I’m numb and expressionless initially. Truth is, I’m not cold. It just takes me time to recollect all my memories of similar incidents I’ve encountered, In movies, tv shows, novels and friends. I sift through the emotions they expressed, …
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The Line.
Have you ever been so lost in the sauce that you wouldn’t feel offended if oxford dictionary replaced the definition of stupid with your name? That was Akeela and it had been her for a while now - giving out passes, lowering standards, crossing boundaries, accepting disrespect, you name it. All because love was pure …
Don’t Love Me, I’m A Writer.
Please don't touch my soul, Not with those hands, black as coal. As I would relive every single moment, For years on end. And in my poetry, you would see your name, Like it was mine to reinvent. Our memories would stay trapped in my heart , As I am dramatic; an exclamation mark enveloped …
Reluctant.
I don’t want to write Or sing or read Don’t want to create Yet another piece or poetry. Not one of love Or lust or affection Not while I crave Your undivided attention. I don’t want to feel Or long for or need Temporary moment of comfort A blessing and a curse indeed. A.
Thank You.
Here's a thank you note, From me to you. I could explain with a handful of quotes, But I opted for something raw and true. You accepted me in my weakest moments, Saw the hurt in my eyes, An ugly reflection showing years of endless torment, And you came close to empathise. You held my …
3AM.
I can only love you at 3am... When my body longs, And my soul is empty. When I revisit my wrongs, And my heart is heavy. These times where I reminisce, About reckless raunchy rendezvous. These times where I silently search, For statements sounding somewhat sentimental. Because my imagination runs wild, And my concerns are …
